


it's a bad idea me and you

by bgaydocrimes



Series: a pretty good bad idea [1]
Category: Dead To Me (TV)
Genre: F/F, but just wait, kind of vague mentions of rough sex, slight feelings, slight praise kink?, top jen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:47:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24649702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgaydocrimes/pseuds/bgaydocrimes
Summary: "D’you ever just want someone to throw you down and like, break you?”Jen’s throat goes dry. Yeah, that’s exactly what she wants to do to Judy.
Relationships: Judy Hale/Jen Harding
Series: a pretty good bad idea [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1782193
Comments: 64
Kudos: 200





	it's a bad idea me and you

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I had a fic idea and it kind of ran away from me. This whole fic was just supposed to be a small intro scene to what I had planned, but it sort of became its own thing?
> 
> Basically I’m going to end up splitting it into two standalone one shots, which this is Part 1 of, but just know that they go together. 
> 
> K, anyway, here’s the sex. 
> 
> (kind of)

It started with a bottle of wine, because of course it did. The alcohol was loosening their tongues and the silence of the night after the boys had gone to bed made space for confessions.

“You know, I’m at peace with being ghosted by Michelle now, but god do I miss... well, you know.” Judy crinkles her nose. It felt weirdly disrespectful to talk about fucking women the same way she did men. 

“Yeah?” Jen waggles an eyebrow goofily while deliberately ignoring the warmth in her stomach at the thought of Judy naked with a woman. 

“Yeah.” Judy sighs. 

Jen shifts awkwardly on the couch. Neither of them have been getting laid much since they’d become friends, so aside from some light discussion about Steve’s giant dick (may it rest in peace) and Ted’s assholery this was strangely not a topic they’d broached too often. She tries to push down her building curiosity about what Judy might be like in bed. 

“She just had like a... presence, you know? She was such a -“ Judy pauses, searching for the right words to encompass what she misses about Michelle.

“A top?” Jen snorts into her wine glass. She had read Michelle immediately after meeting her. Pot, kettle. 

Judy rolls her eyes.

“I mean yeah, I don’t know..” She continues. “I feel like men always treat me like I’m delicate. She... didn’t.”

Jen looks towards Judy without turning her head and making it obvious. Of course Judy doesn’t want to be treated as if she’s delicate, but Jen finds herself wondering just how indelicately she might like it. 

“She was rough?” Jen blurts without fully considering the ramifications of taking their conversation in this direction. She’s had a concerning problem in recent weeks where late at night with her fingers between her legs her mind would turn to Judy just as she was getting close. It was not intentional. At all. And if she happened to come right after thinking of her it was only really because she was so close to begin with. But this was a dangerous path because every time her mind slipped and imagined Judy it was easier and easier to imagine what she might look like, sound like. Taste like. This conversation _really_ wasn’t helping.

“Mmm. I mean, we were getting there. D’you ever just want someone to throw you down and like, break you?”

Jen’s throat goes dry. Yeah, that’s exactly what she wants to do to Judy. 

She feels the familiar pull of a role she had abandoned decades ago. Her college experimentation years revealed her penchant for control; her love for having a partner at her mercy and submitting. There was Cat, her roommate’s hometown best friend who wanted to be choked; Holly, the student union worker who begged Jen to bruise her when they fucked in a fraternity bathroom. But then she met Ted and put all that behind her as youthful experimentation. She put it away and forgot what it was like to make an attractive woman submit to her, the thrill of wielding power over a wide-eyed and pliant girl who’d hang on to her every word. 

But lately she’s felt a reawakening of those old urges. Maybe it’s the combination of realizing how dissatisfying her sex life with Ted had been for the last decade and Judy - fucking Judy - moving into her house and providing her with constant, oblivious eye candy. But now, knowing that Judy had let Michelle fuck her like that, that she had the same vicious proclivities, Jen can feel all those old desires rushing back. 

“Yeah no. I’m usually the thrower in that sort of scenario.” At that they lock wide eyes and Judy takes a gulp of wine to occupy her mouth before something she regrets can come out. 

Jen clears her throat and laughs to break the sudden tension. “I’m kind of impressed, I didn’t think you had it in you, Jude.”

Judy scrunches her nose and huffs in annoyance, all while pushing back the unexpected desire she feels at Jen’s words. She hadn’t thought twice about broaching this discussion with Jen; talking about sex like tipsy friends do, but while her earlier assumption had been that Jen might also like getting tossed around by a man, her mind is now full of the uncomfortably arousing visual of Jen on top of another woman. 

“Yeah, well… I’m full of surprises.” is all she manages, swallowing hard. 

.

That night Jen goes to bed and immediately after sliding under the covers her hand slips into her underwear with no pretense and no workup. She doesn’t need it. 

It’s the first time Jen doesn’t pretend like she won’t end up thinking of Judy. 

If before there was a distant black and white vision of what Judy would be like in bed, now it was in full color on an imax screen. And fuck if Jen didn’t want to be the one shoving Judy forcefully back on the bed and pressing her thumb in the hollow of her throat just to see if she’d let Jen choke her. And god, seeing how many times and how hard she could fuck her before Judy would beg for mercy, sobbing through one last climax before she was too sensitive for more. Before she knows what's happening Jen is coming spectacularly at her own hand, barely muffling a cry in her forearm while the imagined sound of Judy keening through a forced orgasm echoes resplendent in her ears. 

She lays in bed unmoving afterward - heart pounding and blood rushing loudly through her ringing ears. 

Oh shit. 

She’ll never make it back from this. 

.

Weeks pass without either of the pair mentioning their discussion again. Jen gets off nearly every night now (and sometimes twice, because she has needs, okay?) thinking of Judy and the embarrassingly depraved things she wants to do to her. It’s like the instant the topic was broached the floodgates opened and Jen could never unlearn how Judy wants to be fucked. Something about the dichotomy of sweet, seemingly virtuous Judy having a penchant for deviance really gets to her. But that was the thing, wasn’t it? It wasn’t dichotomous. It absolutely tracked that Judy would be as passive and accommodating in bed as she is in life. She’s so, so eager to please, constantly deferring to Jen and going out of her way to make her happy. 

Jen has always been a pro at ignoring uncomfortable feelings, but lately the guilt has really started to creep in. She knows she shouldn’t be fucking herself nightly while imagining how she’d make her best friend beg; she’s crossed so many lines even entertaining these thoughts but to actually fantasize about acting on them? Some mornings she can hardly make eye contact with Judy because the memories are so fresh and vivid in her mind. This twisting in her stomach - the feeling of guilt and arousal combining - is becoming a constant companion. 

She honestly would have made a move on Judy weeks ago if it wasn’t for the fact that Judy’s never shown any indication that she’s interested in Jen in that way. 

Well, there _were_ the lingering touches and lasting glances, the way Judy’s fingers would sometimes graze Jen’s thigh when she was driving, the exaggerated flirting. But Jen had written those off early on as normal friendly behavior. Like, Judy is obviously a tactile person and the flirting is always blatant and clearly done in jest. 

Though now, putting it in context, knowing Judy dates women and the fact that their dynamic has always seemed a little more intense than just friendship? It’s making Jen reconsider.

How would she even start that discussion? 

_So, Jude, remember when you said you wanted someone to break you?_

Good one. 

_I think about you every time I come, how about you?_

Jesus christ. 

_Sometimes I wonder how hard you’d come if I choked you._

Okay, maybe she’d workshop her intro a little bit. 

Jen’s train of thought is brought to an immediate halt by Judy breezing in through the front door. She’s still wearing her work nametag and is beaming as per usual at seeing Jen leaning against the kitchen counter in thought. 

“Hi!” Judy greets Jen with a one-armed hug and a cheek kiss. “Ugh, wine tonight? I’m exhausted and need to relax.”

Jen smiles, mood immediately improved by having Judy home. It’s almost painfully domestic - the cheek kiss at the end of a long day, the way Judy immediately starts to unload the dishwasher when she gets in. 

“Yes, please,” Jen groans. “I picked up some new bottles this week from that good liquor store off the PCH.” 

“I knew I loved you for a reason.” 

Jen winks in response, then remembers part of why she’s so stressed to begin with. 

“Oh - I was going to text you earlier, but Charlie wanted to stay with Lorna too since she has Hen for that weird fucking bible thing this weekend.” 

Jen waves her hand dismissively. 

“Ooh, I get you all to myself?” 

“Yep. I convinced her to pick them both up after school today. We have the house to ourselves until Sunday and thank god because I need to fucking unwind after going seven rounds with the witch today.”

Judy laughs, wiping her hands on a dish towel and sitting next to Jen at the kitchen island. 

“Poor baby,” Judy teases, “how about I Postmate us some Thai; will that make you feel better?”

“Only if you let me have a bite of your sticky rice.”

“Deal.”

.

A few hours and a lot of Thai food later, the two women are curled up on the patio couch watching the flames dance in the outdoor fireplace. They’ve already made it through their first bottle of red - which was admittedly a weird pairing with their Thai - and are both one glass into the second. 

As per usual, Jen finds the alcohol loosening her inhibitions and encouraging inappropriate thoughts. She considers once more how to bring up the topic of their relationship to Judy without ruining the friendship they’ve so painstakingly built. Though outwardly this just looks like staring at Judy’s lips while so deep in thought Jen doesn’t notice she’s doing it. 

“What?” Judy asks, furrowed brow and cocked head revealing that _she_ noticed.

Jen shifts forward to set her wine glass down on the table, still silent. Jen’s inability to gather her thoughts quickly enough to answer in time seems to worry Judy further.

“Jen, what is it? Just tell me.” 

Fuck it. There’s no good way to say it. 

Jen lurches forward, grabbing Judy’s face with both hands and joining their lips in a hard, commanding kiss. 

Judy is stunned at first. Frozen, heart pounding as her body reacts before her mind can catch up. Suddenly she’s returning the kiss and opening her mouth for Jen’s tongue and her brain is finally getting up to speed, screaming at her to pull away and ask for clarification. She indulges herself in a few more moments of being dominated before pulling back abruptly. 

“Oh shit.” Judy manages. 

“Yeah.”

There’s silence for a moment as Judy absorbs what’s just transpired and Jen collects herself. 

“Do it again?”

There's a pause and they just look at each other, weighing the situation.

“Excuse me?” Jen forces a look of disdain, mostly out of habit but also testing the waters, seeking to confirm that she and Judy are on the same page.

Judy immediately looks contrite. And turned on. 

Oh, they’re _absolutely_ on the same page.

“Please. Jen, please kiss me again?” she amends, hands clenching in her lap in anticipation and arousal. 

Jen smirks, leaning back into the couch and beckoning Judy toward her.

“C’mere.”

Judy is scrambling to straddle her lap, leaning forward to kiss Jen again before she’s stopped by a hand against her collarbone. Jen moves the hand to Judy’s hair, collecting a handful and pulling to bare the younger woman’s neck to her. She starts laying soft kisses against the edge of Judy’s throat, working her way up and across her jawline. Judy whimpers when she adds her teeth. And then they’re kissing again, tongues meeting and pressing together before Judy’s cedes to Jen, letting her into her mouth where Jen thrusts in a not-so-subtle promise of what’s to come. 

The slight rocking of Judy’s hips is the first concrete evidence Jen has of her arousal. She feels the increasingly hard press of Judy’s center against her upper thigh, and lifts her knee instinctively to give her something to grind against, losing herself in the fog of the alcohol and the eroticism of their movements together. Jen delivers an experimental slap to Judy’s ass through her denim skirt, mostly for her own enjoyment, but she’s pleasantly surprised when Judy moans and grinds her hips down harder onto Jen’s thigh. 

Jen’s most recent nighttime fantasy flashes into her consciousness for a moment; the one that features Judy being taken over her lap and spanked until she’s writhing. Jen groans into Judy’s mouth at the reminder.

“Please, Jen.”

“Please what, baby?” 

Judy whimpers at the pet name and squirms again against Jen’s thigh. 

“I need to come,” she whispers, embarrassed. 

Jen pulls back and smirks haughtily. In one fluid move she pushes Judy off her lap and presses her down into the sofa cushions before sitting back at the other end of the couch, crossing her arms and looking at Judy again. “Go ahead then,” Jen offers, feigning nonchalance. 

The indifference with which Jen is regarding her sends desire in a shivery arc through Judy’s body, and she whimpers as she realizes what Jen is asking for. 

She shifts on the couch first, trying to rub her thighs together for some relief without Jen noticing because she’s so embarrassingly turned on right now she might die. And maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s the fucking tangible eroticism of Jen looming over her like this, waiting, but she takes a deep breath and decides to give Jen what she wants. She unbuttons the top of her denim skirt - because pushing it up around her hips would be _too much_ and she knows she cant handle Jen looking at her like _that_ with such an unobstructed view of what she’s doing. 

Jen’s composure is dwindling and she isn’t sure how much longer she’ll be able to feign disinterest even though it’s clearly making Judy squirm. But then Judy’s hand is sliding into the top of her skirt and Jen can hear the shaky inhale as her hand pushes further down. She summons every ounce of strength in her body and uses it to recommit to this part, wanting Judy to feel debauched and exposed under Jen’s aloof gaze. She leans forward, looming over Judy in an effort to make sure she feels watched, knows Jen is paying attention to her every move and sound. 

It works because before long, Judy’s writhing on the couch with her right hand tucked under her skirt, fingers working furiously between her legs as her whimpers escalate. Jen’s transfixed by the scene unfolding underneath her and kind of can’t believe it’s actually fucking happening. The almost pained look on Judy’s face, the slick sounds Jen can just barely hear if she strains. It takes every ounce of self control in her body to not reach out and take over. But seeing Judy like this, spectacularly hot and fucking herself _for Jen_ , is too good to interrupt.

Judy’s left hand can’t settle, searching constantly for an anchor. Jen’s thigh, her waist, clenched in blonde hair, squeezing her own breast through the thin t-shirt and bralette she’s wearing. Her nipple is hard under her palm and all she can think about is Jen’s hot mouth all over her chest, her tongue, and - fuck - her teeth plucking at Judy’s strings and playing her to a crescendo. But Jen doesn’t even have to touch her to have this effect. Judy’s teetering on the precipice of a spectacular orgasm and Jen's still just _looking_ at her. 

“Jesus fuck, Jude. Look at you.”

Oh god. And talking to her. 

“Does that feel good, sweetie?”

Judy whimpers at the condescension masked as sweetness sweetness dripping from Jen’s words and her hips buck without permission or thought, chasing more than just her own arousal-clumsy fingers dancing across her clit. 

Jen’s not amused. 

“I asked you-“ Jen grabs Judy's right wrist _hard_ , halting her movements and making her whine. “- a _question”._ She seethes. 

“Yes, Jen, shit, okay? It feels g- it feels so good.” Judy babbles, supplicating. 

It must be enough, because her wrist is free again and her fingers immediately return to work, desire ratcheted up another twelve notches at Jen’s authority. 

Jen basks in the high of experiencing Judy like this, unabashedly fucking herself with her fingers working furiously against the denim skirt, breasts pushed to the ceiling and throat bared while she rockets towards her orgasm. Getting visibly more turned on with every exertion of Jen’s power over her. What a fucking privilege. Jen’s heart is galloping free in her chest, blood singing with barely-contained arousal and maybe a little bit of something else. 

Jen wets her lips before taking the bottom one between her teeth and Judy is immediately assaulted with visions of Jen putting that tongue and those teeth to good use. Judy wants to wake up to marks, a visual reminder of how unequivocally she belongs to Jen. Has always belonged to Jen, maybe since the moment they met over horrible coffee and an ocean breeze. 

“Jen, can I - fuck, please can I come?” 

Jen feels herself clench. Judy’s so _good_ , hanging here on this precipice and still so sweetly asking for permission. Like such a good girl. 

She must have voiced the thought aloud because Judy reacts immediately, voice rising an octave. 

“Fuck, yes, I’ll be good - please let me come, please” she whimpers, meeting Jen’s eyes before her gaze drifts to Jen’s mouth again. 

“Come for me, sweetie.” Jen’s teeth flash in the low lighting, revealed by her haughty smirk as she issues the command. 

Judy digs her fingernails into her own thigh and imagines Jen’s incisors causing the sharp pain. She presses as hard upwards with her hips as she is with her fingers and she’s the most turned on she’s ever been but still the orgasm takes her by surprise, waves breaking over her one by one while she clenches around nothing. 

Jen ducks to kiss her hotly, swallowing the keening cry from her throat as Judy rocks her hips against her hand, tension finally uncoiling. 

The kiss is sloppy and full of tongue as Jen tries to recover from the visual of Judy losing control. This was _her Judy_ and she just watched her fuck herself unabashedly on their patio, listened to the sounds of her fingers working in her wetness, Judy begging Jen for permission to come. Jesus Christ. 

Jen wraps her fingers around Judy’s wrist again and pulls her hand from between her legs. She holds it up in the dim lighting of the back patio, inspecting it before bringing the two wet fingers to her lips. Judy, wide eyed, presses past Jen’s soft lips and into the heat of her mouth. She whimpers at the feeling of Jen’s tongue cleaning her come from her own fingers. 

Jen kisses Judy back to earth afterwards, sharing her taste between their mouths and stoking new curls of desire even as Judy’s body relaxes into spaced-out bliss. Jen continues by placing reverent kisses along Judy’s exposed skin before softly tucking the t-shirt back into her skirt and buttoning it up again. They lay for a moment like this, Jen’s forehead pressed into Judy’s belly, still heaving with deep inhales after her earlier exertion. 

After a few comfortably silent moments, Jen sits her up then clears the remnants of their dinner and wine glasses from the patio table. When she returns, she extends a hand out to Judy, helping her up and leading her to the guest house. Judy follows, still in a daze and questioning the reality of what’s just transpired. Jen kisses her softly on the cheek in the guest house doorway before narrowing her eyes and smirking in that unfairly erotic way of hers. 

“Good night, Judy.”

.

Minutes after bidding Judy good night, Jen finds herself face down on her own bed, fingers between her legs and hips rocking downward into her hand, remembering the unbridled desire on Judy’s face as she came and the slick sounds that accompanied her orgasm. Within moments she’s muffling a scream in her pillow while her hips jerk hard against her fingers, grinding still to prolong one of the strongest orgasms she’s ever felt. 

Laying there afterward, she can’t help the elation flooding her body. Like a fucking teenager excited to see her crush at school. What the fuck is wrong with her? She’s an adult woman for christ’s sake. 

But the thrill of knowing Judy reciprocates her feelings, at least to some degree, won’t subside. 

She’s fucking feeling things, and it’s gross. 

Damnit. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hi hi comments are literally everything to me - I love hearing your thoughts. Every time I write something I think "ok this is it I have no other ideas and will never write again" but then you all comment and its so nice and I LOVE YOU okay? 
> 
> But I do promise that this has a second part that is in progress. And it's dirtier. Just had to set it up first.


End file.
